The First Drop
by crucially
Summary: HARRYxDRACO. Draco and his mother seek out the Order when they are forced to escape the Dark Lord.


**The First Drop,**

**Originally written for Venivincere for the MerrySmutmas fest at LiveJournal. Please visit my LJ for the full, un-edited version. Thank you.**

_No; the world will not break.  
Time will not stop.  
Do not for the dregs mistake  
The first bitter drop._

The final battle passed by quickly for Draco Malfoy who had, very reasonably, expected it to linger. Everyone referred to it as the 'final battle', but he didn't think of it that way; rather, he viewed the whole fight, the bloodshed and the horrible strain between overall good and evil, as a war. A war that still continues this day, that will continue past his death, starting new 'final battles' every hundred years or so. It was a war, Draco thought, that would continue until the muggles and wizards can exist peacefully. However, at this turn of the war, Draco knew he was on the losing side. Lord Voldemort was an extremely powerful being, but he wasn't even a man anymore, just a body with a torn up soul. Draco is convinced _now_ that he knew this somewhere in the back of his mind then, but he still fought for the cause of the Death Eaters in his sixth year at Hogwarts, proving himself when Dumbledore was killed, and proving himself again when Hogwarts barely returned the year after, hardly any students wanting to enter the castle where their Headmaster was murdered by their former Potions Master. But for the Dark Lord that wasn't nearly enough; he ordered Draco to kill and he hadn't, so he did what any self-serving Slytherin did, and he left, leaving a bitter taste in most everyone's mouth, even his own.

Draco escaped the Death Eaters, leaving behind Snape, and leaving behind the Dark Lord, knowing that he could be killed for what he was doing. He found his mother and he begged her to come, too, and she did, knowing she could never leave her son. Time had passed tremendously fast then, but in reality the plan Draco manipulated was one he had developed in his mind for a long time, just in case.

Narcissa was a dedicated mother, despite rumors that floated around Hogwarts. Draco always sneered when he heard people whisper that she didn't care, or that she only sent him sweets so he wouldn't come home. He listened to the Gryffindors taunt him, telling him that his mother would kill him for the Dark Lord. When it came time for Draco to tell his mother that he had to leave the Death Eaters he'd be a liar if he didn't admit he was scared that she wouldn't come.

However, she agreed right away when Draco approached her with his plan.

Narcissa visited Lucius one last time in his cell at Azkaban, but didn't tell him anything. She knew his first loyalties were to the Dark Lord. She said good-bye and took Draco and they _fled_. Narcissa wasn't sure where to go, as long as they were _safe._

Safety, to the ordinary witch or wizard, could mean many things: a warm place to sleep, or the right person to talk to; but for Narcissa and Draco, it meant the Order of the Phoenix, a place of protection, maybe some hope of getting Luicus out of Azkaban one day. Wearing cloaks the color of night, they went to seek out someone from the Order.

Finding an Order member is much more of a difficult task than Draco would have thought when he initially developed his plan. He knew of his cousin, he knew she was an Auror, and from what he's heard he also assumed she would be in the Order. However, finding someone willing to trust them would prove difficult.

Searching the streets of Diagon Alley, they looked around for the right person, for the not-too-crowded place. They ceased looking when they saw Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin, retreating from a bar, laughing, holding hands, and looking for the whole world like a couple in love.

Narcissa hissed to Draco to take cover and lowered her hood as she spoke.

"Nymphadora, I ..I need your help. Please, trust me."

Lupin's face lit with anger and caution, but he did not strike with a spell, rather he held his wand in front of him and pushed Tonks behind him. However, Tonks wouldn't allow herself to be shielded. She stepped ahead, next to Lupin, and said, "Aunt Narcissa. What is this? Some sort of Death Eater ploy?"

"You should certainly know I am no Death Eaters, the Aurors have made sure of that every time... they stopped by for a visit." Narcissa gave a little smirk, but sobered before saying, "I'm here to save my son."

"Your son?" said Lupin sharply. "Why should we care about him? He _is_ a Death Eater."

"Nevertheless," Narcissa continued as if Lupin had never spoken, "we both need help; we shall continue running whether you believe us or not." She shook her head. "We can't go back now."

"And how do we know this isn't a trick?" asked Tonks.

"You don't, but there are ways of finding that out." Narcissa grimaced, and Tonks (and Lupin) understood: certain spells, certain potions, can test one's truth; Veritaserum was one of many, but if needed, more necessary measures could be taken…

"Why would you leave?" Lupin asked, looking truly interested, but still skeptical.

Narcissa looked at him and smiled, bitterly. "I wouldn't have, but Draco is in danger. He… he failed at his task for the Dark Lord…

"But I have information that could be useful for your Order of the Phoenix. All I need is a guarantee that we'll be safe… and that Draco won't go to Azkaban."

"I can't promise you that," Tonks said.

"I know," said Narcissa, sadly. "Goodbye."

Narcissa disapparated with a loud pop and a second later there was another_ pop_, leaving Tonks and Lupin to look at nothing but the trees and leaves swirling in the air were Narcissa stood seconds before.

--

For the next few weeks they did the same thing: following Order members, and talking to them; sometimes for a few moments, and sometimes for over several minutes; but enough to get them interested, to let them know they _really had_ escaped.

Draco and Narcissa, after each session, would then disapparate to Knockturn Alley and stay in a room of one of the lesser know pubs, where whores and hags and other creatures not spoken of would dwell. They would not show their face, as custom, but Narcissa grew wary, scared that they might still be followed. She knew Draco was young, that he didn't understand how serious a crime they had committed by leaving the Death Eaters. But she did; every second of every day since they had left the Death Eaters, when her son was sleeping, she was awake, keeping watch, making sure the blinds in the room were closed.

She looked over him while he slept and realized so many things: how scared she was, how much she missed Lucius. She placed a thread of her hair behind her ear and went to sit on her son's bed, accidentally waking him up.

"Mother, is something wrong?" Draco asked sleepily.

"No, go back to sleep." Narcissa smiled as he closed his eyes and put her hand on his forehead. As a child she would come into his room at night and do the same thing and sing him to sleep. As she got older, Lucius's activities with the Death Eaters (and he was sure to include her as often as he could) made it so she didn't have time to do the little things that didn't seem so important now that he was older, seventeen, and so worn from the strain of a battle that he shouldn't have to be in.

Narcissa laid her hand on top of Draco's and berated herself as tears ran down her face and into her lap.

--

After two months of contacting Order members, they finally were brought to a meeting, hesitantly, by Minerva McGonagall herself, with Lupin, Tonks, Shacklebolt, and the infamous Mad-Eye Moody as guards.

After the promise of being treated with Veritaserum, both were stripped of their wands, and magically bound together. Mad-Eye proceeded to hold Draco's left arm while Tonks took hold of Narcissa's right, and they apparated to the door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

Taking a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, Mad-Eye said to Draco, "Here, read this and memorize it." Meanwhile, Tonks was doing the same thing to Narcissa.

Draco read the messy scrawl, memorizing, _The Headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix are located at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place_, and then it burst into flame. He knew not to say anything, but rather looked up at the houses he was facing, and soon Number Twelve materialized in front of him.

Draco muttered something under his breath. Mad-Eye looked at him suspiciously and Draco lowered his eyes to the ground in apology. He walked forward, tall between his mother and his old Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and then entered the house, into darkness.

"_Incendio_!"

Torches were lit and Draco could see suddenly; not that the view he saw was at all pleasant.

The house was old, decrepit and smelled of mold. Draco's nose turned up and he instinctively looked around for the source when he saw a familiar house elf, and gasped, understanding why the name on the parchment seemed familiar.

"You!" Draco shouted, unable to help himself despite his mother's hiss to _just shut up, Draco, for Merlin's sake_!

"Young Master Malfoy remembers me, what an honor! Oh, Master Malfoy, I'm sorry you must be here, present with all this filth and half-breeds and- "

A loud, very familiar (but not too pleasant) voice rang through the house, "SHUT UP KREACHER!"

Harry Potter came down the stairs glaring at the house elf and then turned his gaze to Malfoy. His eyes opened wide and his mouth shut once, before he whispered, "What is _he_ doing here?"

A Weasley (Draco didn't know which one, he didn't really care, either) turned to Harry and said in what he must have thought was a calming voice, "Now, Harry, before you get upset…" and ushered Harry out of the room quickly but not before he heard Potter curse quite loudly.

Draco glared at Kreacher and kept his eyes facing the ground, determined not to look at anyone; he didn't want to be humiliated any more than he already was.

Draco was led into a dining area and he could hear Moody mutter a spell before he felt himself pushed rather unceremoniously into a chair. Draco could feel his mother beside him, even if his eyes were still focused on the space in front of him. He risked a glance to his right and saw his mother, scared but proud, when he (suddenly) realized that everything was going to change, and maybe not for the better.

He knew this was his idea, but the thought didn't impact him until this moment when he looked around the room and saw all the Aurors and Order members staring down at him and his mother, a Death Eater and a Death Eater's wife, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Draco wanted nothing more than to snap at them (_bugger off, will you_!) but saying that would ruin everything he was doing and fighting for, or rather, fighting against.

Draco shivered and pulled his thin black cloak around his frame; he wanted to disappear into the folds of the dark fabric, into a black night he could hide in forever.

--

Draco woke up to a loud _pop_. He knew it was a house elf, probably the same one from the night before, and pulled the blanket over his head and tried to sleep some more before _waking up_ and realizing where he was and wondering how in hell he got a blanket… and was he in a bed?! Draco groaned as events from the night flashed through his mind.

_Veritaserum, interrogations, shouting, accusations, denial, crying, cursing…  
_  
"Master Malfoy! Master Malfoy, I'm sorry but you must wake up! Kreacher has to tell you things!" Draco slowly inched the blanket down to his chin and saw Kreacher muttering to himself, "Stupid half-bloods and werewolves, blood traitors and mudbloods, talking to Kreacher, giving him tasks, no.."

"What?" Malfoy asked. "Stop muttering, you stupid house elf."

Kreacher shut up instantly and stared at the ground as he addressed Draco.

"Kreacher has been told to tell Master Malfoy that he is to come downstairs immediately."

Draco glared at Kreacher and pulled off his sheets to find he still had the same robes on as the night before. _Of course I do, it's not like I expect them to give me clothing_. He didn't even bother to straighten out of robes or hair before opening the door and walking down the stairs.

Draco didn't look up when he walked, instead staring at the stairs and thinking. _Could I go back, if necessary? Did I make the right choice? Is father still alive?_ He didn't pay any attention as he ran into Potter on the stairs, almost knocking them both down.

"Watch it, Potter!" Draco regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He could have _kicked_ himself. This wasn't Hogwarts; Draco didn't get to call shots or taunt Potter in the halls and Potter had a lot more (if not all the) power here. He smiled at Draco but it was far from friendly. Draco nodded, biting back a thousand retorts, and allowed Potter to grab his shoulder and steer him downstairs into the dining area he was interrogated in the previous evening.

"Sit." Potter shoved him into a seat (the same one he was pushed into by Moody, ironically enough) and took the seat next to him. Draco looked anywhere but Potter and tensed when he realized his mother wasn't there.

"Where's my mother?" Draco demanded of the room, but Potter simply told him to shut up again.

"No! I want to know where she is!" Draco started to stand and in an instant at least five wands were trained on him. Potter placed his hand on Draco's shoulder and pushed him back down.

"Just stay calm, Malfoy, your mother's fine. Actually, I think she's still sleeping."

"She is," said an older woman with red hair whom Draco recognized to be Weasley's mother.

"See, Malfoy? She's fine." Potter's voice was calmer than it was earlier on the stairs and Draco realized Potter's hand was still on his shoulder. He moved away a little and tensed when he felt the hand tighten its grip. _I'm not going to run away, Potter_, Draco thought.

Draco nodded and looked around. He recognized a few faces: Professor Lupin, Weasley's mother and father, Weasley and Granger. He looked at the table and saw that plates were set up and became confused. He couldn't possibly be down here to eat, could he?

Someone cleared their throat and Draco jumped up to see Professor McGonagall standing behind him.

"Draco Malfoy," she started and Draco _cringed_. Everything he did in Hogwarts came rushing back to him and he suddenly regretted coming back. How could he have thought he'd be safe, here, where so many people wanted nothing more than to send him to Azkaban? He was sure he didn't have enough inside information, so it must've been that his mother testified everything she knew. Draco's thoughts were interrupted as McGonagall resumed speaking.

"You're responsible for a lot of very terrible things, but due to some evidence by a particular member of the Order we are assured that you indeed did not kill anyone that night when Professor Dumbledore was murdered." Draco was amazed she said it all so plainly, no emotion coming through her voice whatsoever. "However, as the current leader of the Order of the Phoenix and Headmistress at Hogwarts, I cannot let you go without blame. You must work to rectify what you've done this past year and while we are letting you stay with the Order, under heavy supervision, do not think for a moment that you are free or forgiven for what you have done. You are still a Death Eater and if you do anything that might lead us to think that you are not trustworthy or loyal to the Order, you will be sent to Ministry where they will deal your punishment."

Draco gulped and nodded, trying to consume all the information and think of a reply, but he came up with nothing. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't find the words. However, McGonagall had moved on already.

"Misters Potter and Weasley and Miss Granger are working very hard to research some things and if they request your help you will do whatever it takes to assist them. I expect you to cooperate fully with the Order's wishes." Draco nodded again and in the back of his mind realized that Potter's hand wasn't on his shoulder anymore.

"I have one more thing to say before I go back to Hogwarts, Mister Malfoy…

"Despite everything that you've done, I will take it upon myself to make sure you and your mother are kept safe, if you cooperate with us. Professor Dumbledore has never turned away anyone in the past that needed help, and despite what others may say, I do not think that is what led to his death. Please do not make myself and the rest of the Order regret this decision."

Professor (no, Headmistress) McGonagall wished everyone a good day and turned toward the door, before looking back to Draco and hesitantly adding, "I am glad that you have decided to come here, Mister Malfoy. I am sure Professor Dumbledore would have wanted this."

Draco didn't have time to say thank you before she turned back and exited the room. He looked around and saw everyone looking at him, some skeptical, others with poorly concealed distaste and a few with pity. He didn't bother to look at Potter; he just stared at his plate and nodded when Weasley's mother asked if he wanted any eggs.

--

"Malfoy."

Draco looked up from his book to see Weasley glaring at him. Draco glared back and then returned to his book, trying to find his place.

It had been a month since he started helping Potter, Granger and Weasley research. He still didn't know exactly what he was looking for, but he had a couple of ideas. It was boring, time consuming work, but it wasn't like studying for a Potions exam; this was a lot harder than he initially expected it to be. Whatever he was looking for, Draco didn't think it would be found, not unless he had more information, but he doubted he'd get it so Draco just kept reading the same passages over and over in hope of getting a hint so that he could prove he could be useful.

"Malfoy, I…" Draco found his spot and marked it before he looked up again. Weasley was still glaring at him but he was twitching, drumming his long fingers against the back of the chair he was leaning against. "Look, I don't forgive you for what you've done, and I don't think I ever will. Bill's the oldest of us all and he's getting married soon and maybe he might forgive you, but I _can't_. We all thought he was going to die and even if he didn't he's scarred for life, Malfoy, because of the fucking Death Eaters."

Draco looked away from Weasley and cringed. He saw Bill at a meeting shortly after he arrived and was shocked so horribly that he couldn't believe what he had done led to… that. Draco clammed up and refused to talk to anyone for a week after seeing Bill and just a couple days ago Bill came into Draco's room and explained to him that he didn't hold Draco responsible for what happened (_"…at least, not anymore. I was… angry at first, but I realized that if it was going to happen, it would have eventually, just at another time"_). Draco could only nod and mumble out a thank you.

"...because of the fucking Death Eaters. But…I am willing to try to work with you." Weasley took a breath and cleared his throat before continuing. "I've talked with Harry and Hermione and they've said that, well… that we're on the same side and need to work together. But if you do anything that betrays us, I'll hunt you down myself. Got that, Malfoy?"

"Yes." Weasley nodded and turned to leave but Draco called out.

"What is it, Malfoy?"

"I'm…sorry." Draco looked at his book, staring at the same sentence but looked up when he didn't hear Weasley leave.

"Thanks, Malfoy. That's a start, at least." Weasley turned again to leave but stopped and sat down across from Draco. "So…have you found anything?"

Draco wasn't sure, but he thought he might have. "Well, there's something in this book…" Draco found the page he marked and passed the book along to Weasley.

Maybe he had made the right decision, coming here.

--

Draco was lying on his bed, not exactly sleeping, but not fully awake, when he heard a knock on the door. He was too tired to stand up and get the door; mostly because he figured it would be his mother or Mrs Weasley, who surprisingly got along well enough with each other, despite the bad blood between the two families.

"Come in," Draco called and almost rolled off the bed when he saw it was Potter. "Oh bugger, I mean, uh…Sorry, Potter. I, uh, thought it was my mother or…" he stopped talking when he saw that Potter was beginning to laugh.

"That's alright, Malfoy." Draco nodded and walked over to Potter, not sure exactly what to do.

It was a Friday, but in two days it will have marked the third month that he and his mother have been working for the Order. At first Draco was sure he'd never get along with Potter; that Potter would have found some way to get him kicked out, but they ended up getting on…not well, but not too horribly.

It turned out that what Draco found in the book he showed Weasley was _indeed_ useful and a week later Potter, Weasley and Granger had left. Draco had no clue where they went or if they'd be coming back, but two days later they returned. And it happened again.

Potter had just gotten back from their last journey the night before. Draco never had to ask when they got back because it was the only time that the loud portrait downstairs started going off, mainly because they were too exhausted to care if they made noise. Draco would usually stay in his room or go to visit his mother and see Granger in the library the next morning, or see Weasley eating breakfast, or walk run into Potter on the stairs.

"Malfoy?" Draco blinked and muttered a quick apology.

"What is it…? Is there something wrong?" A thousand questions formed on Draco's tongue but Potter shook his head and answered.

"No, I just wanted to talk to you. I have a few things to tell you, actually." Potter shifted his weight from one leg to another and looked around the room.

"Uh…" Malfoy started, not quite sure what to say. He settled on, "Do you want to sit down somewhere…?"

Potter looked up and smiled, saying "Sure" and sitting on Draco's bed. Draco nodded and sat next to Potter, marveling over just how much has happened the past few months.

One thing for sure is he _never_ imagined he would have a civil conversation with Potter, but in fact this wasn't the first time they'd talked. At first it was about small things, like how the weather was outside or Quidditch and how neither of them thought the Cannons had a chance this season (much to Ron's dismay) but then they shifted from how it was to live with muggles and what Draco used to want to be when he was little, just stupid topics that Draco thought no one really ever talked about, until one day Potter told Draco he forgave him.

Draco didn't know what to say so he settled for a thank you and excused himself to go to bed. The next day he woke up to find Potter, Weasley and Granger had gone on another trip (at least, that's what Draco called them, for lack of a better word) and Draco hadn't seen Potter since.

He really didn't know what to say.

"So…how did it go?" Draco ventured.

"Well enough, I suppose. Of course it could've gone better, but…with the situation…I don't know. But I guess that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Draco sat up a bit straighter and looked into Potter's eyes.

"Yeah, you see…"

And Potter went on to explain everything. About the horcruxes, about what they were doing to stop Voldemort, and eventually, about that night on the tower with Snape and Dumbledore.

"I was there so I know…like Dumbledore said; you aren't a killer…Draco." Potter cleared his throat and went on, "That's why I persuaded McGonagall to let you stay here, so you could help and…I know that's what Professor Dumbledore would have wanted."

"…Oh."

"Yeah." Harry laughed and looked up from his lap. "So, I don't know if I can trust you completely, but I wanted to thank you for helping and for not…making me regret having you and your mum stay here."

"Th-thanks, Potter…" Draco didn't know what to say. Again. He knew about Gryffindors and their noble streak, but sometimes Draco thought Potter acted more like a Hufflepuff, not that he wasn't grateful.

Potter stood up and opened his mouth, but quickly closed it, walking to the door and muttering a good bye before closing it behind him. Draco heard his steps gradually fade away and laid back down on his bed, thinking.

--

Draco gasped as a warm hand grabbed him and started stroking up and down, quickly, much faster than he did when wanking.

He tried to sit up, to see who it was, but was pushed back down and soon the hand was replaced with a hot mouth and Draco thought he was going to come from the overwhelming heat of it all.

A pair of large hands held his hips down as the mouth sucked deeper than Draco could ever imagine and everything went white when Draco came. He felt a vibration as he heard a chuckle, a low, teasing sound and when the mouth let go of his spent dick he looked up from the bed and choked when a pair of green eyes stared back.

--

"Hi."

Draco jumped up from his chair in the library and cursed. He looked up and saw Potter and cursed again, quickly excusing himself while muttering an apology. He didn't have to turn around to know that Potter had a confused and worried look on his face.

He didn't know _why_ but every night for the past week he'd had the most explicit dreams that always left him with the _worst_ morning wood, and they were all about Potter. He thought his subconscious was fucking him over, because while he wasn't exactly picky about his choice in partners, Potter (and most men) had never really made it to his list.

After the fourth morning of waking up and absolutely refusing to wank because of Potter, he decided that maybe he wasn't sexually attracted to Potter, he certainly wasn't when he was _awake_, but his mind was showing him how grateful he was of Potter letting him take refuge in his home.

However, having Potter surprise him in the library with absolutely no warning was a different story. At first sight of Potter everything came rushing back from the night before and Draco was positively sure he flushed to his roots. He couldn't imagine what Potter would say if he knew. _Oh, if he knew…_ Draco wanted to die of shame, but for some reason every time he told himself how wrong his dreams were, he couldn't help but remember them and think that maybe… they weren't so bad.

Of course, he'd never do or say anything, but it couldn't hurt to dream.

--

Draco couldn't breathe, he was afraid that if he breathed he'd be ripped in two, but he loved the feeling, and he choked out, "harder" even though he wasn't sure he could handle it.

"Are you sure?" Long arms twisted around his stomach and started feeling for him and he could feel a warm body behind him, around him, inside of him.

"Yes," Draco breathed out, moaning when he felt Harry hit push hard inside and everything tingled_. _

"Are you alright?" A soothing hand inched forward and covered his and Draco moaned again when Harry pushed forward a little faster.

"Yes," Draco said again, "just don't stop, please…"

--

"Malfoy, what's been going on?"

Draco blinked at Potter who had taken the seat next to him at the kitchen table. It was around three in the morning, but Draco hadn't been able to sleep, and apparently Potter hadn't either.

"Nothing, Potter. Why would you think something's going on?" Draco tried to look calm and detached but he couldn't help glancing over every few seconds to see what Potter was doing. Potter looked doubtful and snorted.

"I'm not stupid, you know. Or maybe you _don't_ know. Either way, I know that you've been hiding something, and you better tell me. I hope you're not doing anything stupid."

Draco smirked, because of all the possible accusations Potter gave, this was completely…_wrong_. Of course, Potter wasn't entirely off the mark. Draco was indeed hiding something, but he didn't feel the urge to share that with Potter any time soon.

Draco wiped his eyes and apologized, mostly because Potter seemed a tad annoyed.

"No, Potter, I'm not doing anything stupid." He paused._ Wasn't he? It couldn't be smart, entertaining thoughts of the sort he was having. _

"But you have been hiding something," said Potter, almost smugly. "I can tell."

Draco scoffed, a bit annoyed, though he knew he had no right to be. "Oh, really, Potter? And how's that?"

Potter answered, very simply, "Because I've been watching you."

Draco absolutely _choked_. He was sure Potter hadn't intended it to sound that way but his brain (or rather, his cock) had taken it a different way. "R-Really?" Draco coughed out.

"Well, Potter, I'm not hiding anything. So you can just go back to doing what you were… saving the world, rescuing kittens from trees, whatever else you're up to in your spare time…" _Like watching me_, he thought.

"Come on, Malfoy. I thought we were getting…well, along now. It's been long enough since you've been here, and you've helped us out a lot, and while we probably won't ever be friends…" Potter started muttering, "Though I wouldn't mind, but you probably wouldn't want to be, and," Potter continued more clearly, "I just thought you'd tell me if something was wrong."

Draco cleared his throat and tried not to look at Potter as he said, "No, nothing's wrong. Nothing you could fix anyway." Draco muttered the last part.

Potter stood up and leaned against the back of Draco's chair. "Huh?"

"What?"

"I didn't hear what you said, at the end."

"It was nothing, Potter. Sorry for…worrying you." Draco leaned against his chair and jumped forward almost immediately after he felt Potter's arms resting against his neck.

Potter flinched and said, "Did I do something?"

"No," Draco whispered.

"Draco…" _Potter, stop being nice, please._

"What is it, Potter?" Draco tried to sound bored, but couldn't help the slight hitch to his voice on 'it'.

"Am I making you…nervous?"

_No, Potter…_ "Yes…" Draco shut his eyes and did a mental head bang against the desk. He felt so, so stupid, how could he say that, he didn't even understand how he was feeling, what was he _doing?_

"Why?" Potter's voice was soft and his breath ghosted against the back of Draco's neck.

"I..I don't know." Draco stood up suddenly and almost knocked Potter over, but he didn't care because he just had to get out of there, before something happened (_something? he asked himself. Why would something happen?_) "Sorry, Potter. I'm going to bed. Talk to you in the morning."

He walked out of the kitchen and wasn't aware that the door shut on its own, and it shut particularly loud, and Draco cursed because if Mrs Black woke up he'd have hell to pay from the_ entire_ house.

But nothing happened.

And Draco wasn't sure if anything ever would.

**End**

**Please review if you enjoyed! Thank you.**


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